


DIY Christmas (presents not included)

by vociferocity



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Minor Canonical Character(s), POV: Pokemon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 14:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vociferocity/pseuds/vociferocity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a group of pokemon trainers and Nurse Joy are trapped in a Pokemon Center over Christmas, it's up to their pokemon to save the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	DIY Christmas (presents not included)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a writing competition over at pokecommunity - and came third! pretty exciting for something unbetad haha :)
> 
> also: all the trainers mentioned in this fic come from the games

The falling snow was almost beautiful, Nurse Joy thought, if she could forget how it had trapped them in the Pokemon Center. Sure, they had food and shelter, and they'd be rescued once the snowstorm eventually blew past. But for the next few days, they'd be here, far away from decorations and families and presents. They were going to miss Christmas.  
  
Joy didn't mind for her own sake, not too much. Sure, she'd bought a few things online for her friends, and for Chansey, that were now stuck at the Post Office, and since they were running on the backup generator, there was no way for her to call her parents. But she was on the wrong side of thirty, and Christmas stopped being being so special when you were a grown woman.  
  
But the trainers...  
  
There were four of them, trapped with her in the Pokemon Center, and it was for them that she felt this sharp disappointment. Dusty probably didn't mind too much, the few things he'd said had given her the impression that he wasn't close with his family, and he was old enough not to care about toys. Kindra and Winston had put a brave face on things, but they were young, and she could tell that under their stoic facades they were upset. It was Greg, the youngest of all of them, who she was most sad for. He was barely eleven, only a few months into his journey, and Joy knew it was hardest on him to be trapped with virtual strangers over Christmas.  
  
But there was nothing she could do.  
  
With a sigh, she turned from the frosted windows, hands securely wrapped around her hot chocolate. The trainers had gone to bed early, Christmas Eve just another night when there was nothing to make it special, and Joy decided it was time to follow suit. Staring at the snow wasn't going to make it melt any faster. As she trudged into the back of the Center where her bedroom was, thoughts focused on her drink, she didn't notice the procession of pokemon sneaking down the stairs.  
  
* * *  
  
“Hurry up!” Volbeat insisted, softly but firmly, from the back of the line, hovering impatiently over Sandlash's shoulder. “We don't have time for all this  _lollygagging_!”  
  
“Lollygagging,” Shuppet snickered, doing a lazy loop in the air. “What does that even mean?”  
  
“It means Mr Important over here doesn't understand  _stealth_ ,” Linoone sniffed. She kept her eyes – and more importantly nose – peeled, but she couldn't sense the pink haired lady nearby. She remained still, however; they had all night, and she refused to rush things.  
  
“Oh, I  _understand_ -” Volbeat began, puffing out his chest furiously. Illumise interrupted him with a soft hand on one shoulder.   
  
“Dear one,” she whispered. “Please calm down. We can't do this unless we work together!”  
  
“Work together,” Shuppet repeated, then laughed mockingly. “Pretty words from a pokemon who was too good for the rest of us yesterday.”  
  
Illumise's blue cheeks flushed darker, but she carefully ignored him, an awkward silence filling the stairwell.  
  
After a long moment, Sandslash sighed. “Can we just get on with it?” she asked, twitching her claws impatiently. “Dusty and I worked hard today, I'm  _tired_.”  
  
“If all of you would just stop  _complaining_ ,” Linoone snapped without any real heat, “you would notice that the human has been gone for a while. I think she's asleep. Troops...”  
  
“Move out?” Volbeat asked hopefully.  
  
“Move out,” Linoone confirmed, with a sharp nod of her sleek head. “Sandslash and Shuppet: you're going to find a tree and some decorations. Volbeat and Illumise, go with them in case they need any airborne support.”  
  
“What are you going to do, dear?” Illumise asked. “And...Shuppet's friend?” she continued slowly, hesitant to draw the attention of the creepy pokemon that had lagged behind them the whole way down the stairs.  
  
“Presents,” Linoone said grimly. “Duskull, you and I are on present duty.”  
  
* * *  
  
By all accounts, Linoone was a sharp, attentive pokemon. Her strengths had never lain in pure attack power; instead, she was the kind of devious strategist that always knew who should be doing what, and when.   
  
Within minutes of meeting the rest of the trainers and their pokemon at the Pokemon Center a few days earlier, she'd had them figured out: the distracted male human and his aggressive, impatient Sandslash; the child and his devoted bugs; and the female human with the ill-tempered ghosts who Linoone's trainer hadn't been able to tear his eyes from. Linoone's keen observation skills had made it obvious that he had no chance: the girl was far more interested in playing a mentor role for the child than in romance, but Winston had ignored her advice and persisted in mooning over her.  
  
“Linoone,” he'd sighed to the deeply uninterested pokemon earlier that evening. “If only I had a christmas present for her... something perfect and beautiful, just like her! I know she'd really  _see_ me.”  
  
Linoone was positive that the other trainer could already see Winston, nothing about the girl had implied that she had any kind of vision impairment, but she understood the rest of what he'd said. Against her better nature, she'd felt sorry for her trainer.  
  
Which was why, even though she found the practice uninspired and overly-sentimental, Linoone was digging around in an old storage closet looking for the perfect christmas present.  
  
Behind her, Duskull hovered. Or at least, she thought he did. She hadn't turned to look, but there was a prickle on the back of her neck that spoke of being watched. Linoone suppressed a shiver. She couldn't help but find the silence a little creepy.  
  
“So,” she said at last, keeping her voice even and cheerful with effort, “are you going to find a present for your trainer?”  
  
There was no response.  
  
Linoone turned, and caught Duskull's eye. He made a slow gesture that Linoone decided to interpret as a shrug.  
  
“Okay,” she said after some more silence. “If I see anything good, I'll bring it out, okay? I think all the trainers should get presents, really. It's only fair, right? And perhaps we should find things that they could give to each other? Or to the doctor? Do you think -” With horror, Linoone realised she was babbling, and snapped her mouth shut.  
  
“I'll just keep looking,” she said after a long silence, turning back to the closet in shame.  
  
But after a moment, two gray arms joined hers. In silence, Duskull began to rummage through the closet.  
  
* * *  
  
“...I mean, are you kidding me right now?” Shuppet continued, flying a tight, angry circle around Sandslash. “ _Airborne support_? Did she forget that I can  _fly_?”  
  
Sandslash sighed, using every ounce of willpower to stop herself from choking the other pokemon into unconsciousness. This had to be at least the third time she'd heard this rant since reaching the garage, and it got less entertaining every time.   
  
Not for the first time, she wished the lovebugs had stayed. It had made sense at the time to split up; one group finding a tree, the other decorations; but now she felt a keen sense of regret. Being alone with Shuppet was basically the worst thing ever, she'd decided. Never again. Never,  _ever_ again. Not even on pain of -  
  
“-Hey, you're not even  _listening_ to me!” he whined, stopping right in front of her with an aggrieved expression on his face.  
  
“Let me guess,” Sandslash said wearily. “She's the worst, you can fly, how dare she, etcetera?”  
  
Shuppet was silent for a beat, then rose into the air again. “I mean,” he said. “Are you  _kidding_ me right now?”  
  
* * *  
  
“Dear one, do you really think we'll find decorations up here?” Illumise asked, clutching Volbeat's hand as they drifted through the immense attic.  
  
“I suppose we must,” Volbeat said confidently, squeezing her little hand. “Otherwise, why would that Shuppet chap have sent us up here? He must know what's here.”  
  
“Right,” she said softly, deciding that he was probably right, and even if it  _had_ seemed to her that Shuppet had just wanted to get rid of them, had just named the first place he'd thought of, she was probably wrong.   
  
“Oh,” she said, craning her neck to see over a pile of cobwebbed junk. “I think I see something shiny in the corner, we should -”  
  
“No no, dear,” Volbeat said, pulling her closer to him. “I think over here is a much more  _logical_ place to search. There are boxes, see? We should look here.”  
  
Illumise clung to his hand, and let him tow her through the air to the dusty boxes that even from this distance she could see had ' _books_ ' written on them in neat cursive.  
  
When, indeed, they only contained books, she couldn't help another comment slipping out.   
  
“Presents?” she squeaked, pressing her lips together as Volbeat looked at her with quirked antennae.   
  
“Really?” he asked. “Books as presents? Nobody would want that.”  
  
Illumise looked at the floor, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I think – um – I think people might -”  
  
Volbeat found her hand, and squeezed it again. “Darling,” he said gently. “I know your heart is in the right place, but just leave the ideas to me. Speaking of which: I believe I saw something sparkling in the corner, earlier. You stay here, and I will investigate.”  
  
She slipped her hand from his, and as he took to the air, busily beating his wings, she drifted closer to the box. She'd seen some interesting titles, and for once she wasn't going to just let Volbeat make all the decisions. Linoone had said they needed presents, and books were  _great_ presents, she knew she was right.  
  
* * *  
  
A few hours later, the pokemon were assembled in the front room of the Pokemon Center; the couches were piled high with unwrapped presents, dented baubles, and dusty strings of tinsel, and there was a battered tree in the center of the room. Shuppet, for all his complaining, had been the one to find the sad-looking thing behind a rotting bookshelf in the garage, and Sandslash had dragged it through the building, only losing a few pine needles here and there.  
  
Now, of course, they had to decorate it.  
  
“We should follow a theme,” Illumise enthused, flushed with excitement from her book-related victory. Linoone had deemed them “acceptable”, and stacked them with the rest of the presents.  
  
Shuppet burst into his chiming laugh. “A theme,” he mocked. “We have one of those: it's 'Things that should have been thrown away'.” He gestured to the motley assortment of decorations, which really did only have that in common.  
  
“We should put everything on,” Sandslash said. “We found it all, it'd be a waste not to.”  
  
Volbeat nodded. “That does make some sense,” he agreed.  
  
“But they'll look  _awful_ together,” Illumise protested weakly. “We should pick the ones that'll go well together!”  
  
“And what do we do with the rest of them, huh?” Sandslash snapped. “Put them  _back_? After the  _hours_ it took to find them all?”  
  
Illumise's antennae drooped. She didn't have an answer for that.  
  
“So it's settled,” Sandslash said after a moment of silence. “We go with my idea. It makes -”  
  
“No,” boomed a deep voice. The pokemon looked around in shock. When the voice spoke again, they realised it came from their silent companion, Duskull. “Illumise is right. Theme. Want it to be...” he trailed off thoughtfully before adding, decisively, “Pretty.”  
  
Illumise beamed at him.  
  
“But the rest of the decorations?” Sandslash asked again, impatiently. “What do we do with them, wise guy? Huh?”  
  
Duskull fixed its single eye on her, and she looked away. “Room,” he rumbled after a moment. “Decorations. Festive.”   
  
After a long, slightly awkward pause where everyone tried to work out what Duskull was saying, Shuppet sighed. “He  _means_ ,” he began, “that we could decorate the  _room_ with the things we don't want for the tree. It'll look festive.”  
  
“ _Oh_ ,” Illumise said in realisation. “Hey, that makes sense!”  
  
“Honestly,” Shuppet said with another long-suffering sigh. “You  _pokemon_.”  
  
Sandslash twitched her claws, obviously itching for a fight. “Fine,” she said at last. “Whatever. Now, where do we want the gold tinsel?”  
  
* * *  
  
Nurse Joy had always been an early riser: she believed that, as the saying went, the early Delibird got the Wurmple. She was no different this morning, even though she knew there was nothing to get up early for. No patients, no presents, and no hot breakfast unless she cooked it herself, considering the chef was having a well-deserved holiday.  
  
So it was with a heavy heart, and a mug of hot, if not delicious, instant coffee, that she left her bedroom.  
  
Clad in her softest slippers and warmest bathrobe, because nobody was going to be judging her appearance this early in the morning, she trudged through the cold, empty halls of the Pokemon Center. Everything seemed peaceful and undisturbed, except... what was that on the ground?  
  
She bent down, careful not to spill her coffee. It was a pine needle. It looked a little elderly, like the tree it came from was well past its prime, but it was definitely a pine needle. She crushed it in her hand and inhaled the smell of Christmas.  
  
For Joy, Christmas had never been about presents, it had been about the smell: pine needles, eggnog, pudding with custard... She had to blink back sudden tears as the smell of this one needle brought back a rush of memories of past Christmases.  
  
When she stood at last, coffee starting to cool and the smell of the pine needle completely gone, it was with a lighter heart. Even if she couldn't have a real Christmas this year, even if there were no presents and no tree, she knew she and the other trainers would somehow find a way to make the day feel like Christmas.  
  
And then she walked into the front room.


End file.
